


The Gift Given

by Keiko Kirin (sakana17)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-09-19
Updated: 2002-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-03 18:35:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakana17/pseuds/Keiko%20Kirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Daniel share love and pain. Set in Season 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift Given

**Author's Note:**

> Content includes consensual violence. Many, many thanks to Thevetia who found the way ahead and stopped me from chucking it and saved the ending.

There was a time when they could not imagine this: lying naked in bed together, drawing comfort from touch and silence and proximity. Daniel could remember the impossibility. Not so long ago.

Daniel could remember the impossibility of belief. Then: once, in the weeks after watching Sha're walk away as Amaunet again, Jack touched his shoulder. There was only a look, only a sense impossible to believe in. A promise never to be kept.

And then, months after watching Sha're free herself from Amaunet once and forever, the belief was no longer impossible. Daniel could remember the crush of discovery, the damning guilt. That Jack could give him comfort, would want to give him comfort, that Daniel would long for that comfort. It wasn't a freedom, it was a burden, a condemnation. Daniel shut his eyes to it, but gradually became less able to be blind. Then Nick stayed on P7X-377. Too many departures that year. He was weak. They both were.

And Jack could comfort him. With his hands, first and foremost, always. Even during their initial awkward explorations, Jack's hands were assured, skilled, soothing. That such strength could be controlled, could be so gentle, was something unexpected and tantalizing. Daniel could remember falling into that touch, so easily giving way, always. Even during their self-imposed ineffectual separation, the exile they attempted when the fear of discovery was too great. And afterward, during the terrifying realization that not even fear could drive them apart. Strength could be so weak.

Jack could comfort him.

Daniel sat in bed, watching the color leach from the room, catching the faintest hint of the smell of their sex lingering. Restless, he pulled the bed covers aside and stretched and reached for his glasses. Mid-reach, he was halted by a smooth, assured touch. Jack's hand glided over his nipple, over his ribs, down to rest over his appendix scar. It was still tender. Daniel gradually relaxed into the touch, rolling onto his back, abandoning his glasses.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." Jack's hand moved over his belly, followed the line of his hip and thigh. Came to rest in the thatch of his pubic hair, fingers slowly spreading and reaching the curve of his cock.

Languid ripples of arousal flowed through Daniel. He raised one knee, lifting his hips while Jack stroked him. So assured and strong. Daniel watched him. Steady rhythmic pull of shoulder muscles as Jack's arm flexed with each slow firm stroke. Shadowed lines in his face, on his neck. Sun-worn and silver. The comfort of touch poured heat into Daniel's skin, making it rise, making it solid, drawing it, drawing it out until he crested and came, brief and silent.

Wet warm buzz still tingling, Daniel lay back and opened his thighs. The invitation and the promise kept, always, as Jack entered him, filled him, made love to him. Rough gentle stroke and glide and pull. Assured, controlled. Drawing comfort from each other, from their bodies. Naked and open. When Jack came, he gasped a short breath and closed his eyes, and the shudder that escaped him washed through Daniel in slow drenching waves of ice and flame.

Afterward, a dance of practicality as they resumed their life. Taking turns in the shower, taking turns in the kitchen. Jack watched Daniel in shirttails navigate with coffee and newspaper, pants slung over one arm.

"Hey," he said, slipping Daniel's bathrobe over his shoulders as he stepped into the kitchen.

Daniel paused by the sink and took a sip of coffee. "Hey yourself." He set his coffee and paper down and stepped into his pants.

Jack came close, loved invading Daniel's personal space -- loved it because Daniel let him, because it was another form of intimacy. He buttoned Daniel's fly and zipped him up and tucked Daniel's shirt in. Lingering. Any excuse to touch and draw a reaction from Daniel. See his defenses lower. See his control waver, just a little. The signs were minuscule: deep intake of breath, pupils expanding and contracting, the pulse in his neck jumping.

Jack stepped back and poured himself a cup of coffee. Coffee after sex. Nothing like it. He was still adjusting to acting on his desires. It was comforting to find simple pleasures in among the complex, terrifyingly wonderful ones. The coffee slid down his throat, warmed him, poured stimulation into nerves still nicely dulled from sex. Its aroma mingled with Daniel's overpriced aftershave and the crisp newspaper smell and the elusive scent embedded in Daniel's bathrobe. Close to the raw, sharp, arousing scent of Daniel himself, but blunted by fabric and air. Another simple pleasure.

Jack had never counted on pleasures, simple or otherwise. He hadn't known he could do this: reach for Daniel, offer him comfort, offer himself, and be accepted. He hadn't known Daniel could reach for him. It was circular: offering and sharing. The little gifts of touch and warmth and understanding. Little gifts they had tried to refuse and instead just kept returning, in circles. Not even fear could stop them, and that in itself was frightening. And comforting also.

There was this closeness where none had been foreseen. Jack was still accepting it. Closeness in isolated moments, in unexpected looks, in shared words. They could be together, they could be apart, and the closeness was always there. It wasn't to be taken lightly.

Jack took his coffee into the bedroom and got dressed. They could be together, they could be apart, and the day was invading.

\------

Daniel sat at his desk and fingered the crudely stitched pouch of rough homespun fabric. He glanced at his notes describing it. Precise, factual notes which left out so much.

It was a gift from the Enkarans. They called it a 'dream pocket'. It was meant to be slipped under a pillow. It would give the sleeper clarity of sight and mind, they believed. Nikka had pressed it into Daniel's hand right before Lotan had taken the Enkarans up into his ship. The only gift she had, she said. She wished it had been more.

He ran one finger along its uneven edge. Clarity of sight and mind was not a gift to underestimate. They had returned to SGC, the pouch in Daniel's pocket, and Jack hadn't lost the grim set of his jaw or the dark anger in his eyes. Daniel couldn't figure it out. Everything had ended happily for all involved.

Maybe the dream pocket didn't need sleep to work. Daniel was typing up his report -- _Lotan brought the naqahdah reactor onto the ship seconds before the feedback loop would cause it to explode_ \-- when the thought slid into place. Why Jack had been so angry. Jack loved him.

It explained so many things that Daniel wasn't sure why he hadn't figured it out before. He should have known after Euronda. They couldn't argue like that if they didn't love each other. He should have seen it, but at the time, it had seemed like an attempt to create necessary distance after they had succumbed to closeness. What they had together wasn't just comfort, just a reaching out for contact. They loved each other. It was a lot to take in.

Daniel rubbed the pouch with his thumb before placing it inside its new home: a small acid-neutral cardboard box labelled with an inventory number. The gift given, and Daniel was thankful. He went back to typing up his notes, feeling the pull of time passing, each new moment falling into the next until he and Jack could be together. Alone and isolated and sheltered. He could touch Jack, comfort him with his hands, and strip away the anger. There was something more important underneath.

Important things, little things: these kept them together. Close or apart, while time invaded, while pieces of the universe crumbled and fell away.

Clarity of sight and mind, Hedrazar had said when she'd given Jack the little cloth pouch. He was supposed to put it under his pillow when he slept. Officially, what he was supposed to do with it was turn it over to the inventory and have Daniel or one of his assistants catalog it. Instead, what he did with it was toss it into a desk drawer, way at the back, behind a stapler and a cracked coffee mug he hadn't returned to the mess. He wasn't sure he needed clarity of sight and mind right now. Things seemed pretty clear already.

He'd fallen in love with Daniel. All that time longing. A nameless need. And then came the sucker punch in the gut. It wasn't just closeness, it wasn't just lust. He loved Daniel.

And Daniel loved him. The argument on Euronda should have convinced him if nothing else had -- people didn't argue with such passion unless the passion came from somewhere -- but at the time, Jack had been too disjointed to see it. Pulled in too many directions by orders, suspicions, manipulations, and Daniel's stubbornness. They had tried to be apart again, and Jack had tried to make sense of his world, failed, and then they'd met Lotan and his damn ship.

There was the sucker punch. Daniel went on his merry way with the perfect faith of love, certain that Jack would trust him, and Daniel found a solution. Pure dumb luck. But by then Jack had already pressed the button. Despite the outcome, Jack had to accept that. Part and parcel of his disorderly world where decisions had to be made. And Daniel still loved him.

Jack closed the drawer and stood up. Sometimes the closeness was too close, like he and Daniel were trying to occupy the same space. The closeness tugged at him and caught him to draw him away. Into the fragile shell they shared. Alone, just the two of them.

Hours later, the sky was turning pink, about to be reborn. The forecast was snow, but the sky was too clear, and the air too cold. It poured through the window glass in stark contrast to the heat of Daniel's body sliding into bed next to Jack. They shared that, too: heat, their bodies, their needs. Jack hadn't relaxed yet; some days were harder than others. So Daniel was gentle. Controlled smooth glide of hands and lips, his strength and passion leashed. It worked, because Daniel could do that for him: comfort him and relax him as perfectly as he could infuriate and spark him.

Jack fell back under Daniel's touch. Warm now, sweating. He spread his legs as Daniel went down on him and licked him until he was open and aching. His fingers tangled in Daniel's hair and rubbed the short wispy softness. Daniel stroked his thighs, controlled, sure strokes, and held him as he licked up, behind his balls, over them, over his cock, and finally took him into his mouth and drank him. Steadily, deeply, making the ache burn, feel sweet, fill Jack's veins with liquid sugar. Jack rocked with his sucking, and when he could no longer bear it, Daniel slid his fingers up, into his ass, stroked him there with such precision. Made him come, hard. Pulled him into and under crashing waves, and buoyed him to float.

Jack floated drowsily as he lifted his legs back and took Daniel inside. Daniel held him with strength no longer surprising and no longer new. It was a luxury to give in to that strength and feel that control and watch Daniel, slick with sweat and handsome with exertion, solid and clever. Steady, deep, sweet aching thrusting as Daniel made love to him. They loved each other. It was a luxury.

Afterward Jack curled up under blankets warm and clammy from their bodies and listened to Daniel's car warming up outside. He felt cocooned. The closeness was always there, through frozen air and window glass.

\-----

Love wasn't always comforting. The longer it lasted, the more they shared, the more they risked and the more they had to lose. Daniel couldn't breathe if he thought of losing. It had to be worth it, he thought. Otherwise they were insane for even trying.

Jack was still raw. He'd zatted Sam twice. It had worked out in the end, through luck or through a bad decision made into a right answer. But the action remained. A fact in the reports.

Jack was raw and needed to get it out of his system. Rough grasping. Sucking Daniel so hard he thought Jack would suck away the love, swallow the pain, leave him empty. Instead the pain poured forth and melted, the love overflowed. Daniel stroked Jack's hair as Jack slowed and grew gentle. Soothing the rawness away.

Jack drew back and released him. He was still in his clothes, still in his jacket, and kneeling on the floor. Daniel stepped out of the crumpled heap of his pants and underwear and pulled off his shirt. Jack sat back on one heel and raised his other knee. He wiped his lips with his fingers.

Daniel fished his bathrobe from the bedroom and sat down on the floor next to him, leaning against the wall. Jack looked at him, the look in his eyes so unguarded. A different kind of raw. Sometimes love wasn't comforting.

They sat there and shared silence until the pressure had passed and the air had lost its charge. Jack took off his jacket and kicked off his shoes and pulled a pillow off the sofa and sat on it with his legs straight out. Next to Daniel, so close they touched.

Jack watched the sunlight streak through motes of dust in the air. The taste of Daniel was still strong in his mouth. How could he satisfy a hunger he couldn't describe, he wondered.

Daniel touched his leg, ran a hand down his thigh to his knee and massaged it. Jack moved his knee, grateful for Daniel's careful rubbing. He looked at Daniel's cluttered living room around them. A lot to take in and make sense of, like Daniel in that respect. But understandable. A nice place to be once you got used to it.

He wasn't sure he ever wanted to get used to it. That implied a loss of wonder at the impossible made possible. All the fear in those first shy touches and all the marvel afterward to find them returned -- Jack never wanted to lose that. They lost too much already.

They went through so much shit in their lives. There was so much at risk. It was wearying. Simpler if they didn't have this; if there were no closeness, if there were no shell, if there were no love. But love was part of the risk, something to keep them going. Jack wished there wasn't so much shit going on as well.

Daniel nudged him with his elbow. "This isn't comfortable." He patted Jack's knee.

Jack glanced over at him. He combed Daniel's hair with his fingers. "No kidding."

He let Daniel pull him up because he got a cheap thrill from feeling Daniel's strength exerted. He let Daniel undress him, because Daniel was getting his cheap thrills running his hands over Jack's body through different layers of clothes. By the time they were naked and in bed, Jack knew it was worth it. The risk, the ache, the uncertainty. The hunger he couldn't describe, but he knew Daniel had it, too.

\-----

Love wasn't always comforting. It hurt. It had to. Daniel needed to know Jack's love could hurt.

He had witnessed Jack's rage on K'Tau. He had seen how far and how deep Jack's fury could go. Love was that, too: fury, rage, pain. If they didn't share everything, then they shared nothing, because they were incomplete. Love had to hurt so that Daniel would know it was real.

Jack hadn't relaxed. Months of effort and argument and anger couldn't disappear. Daniel watched Jack sift through his backlog of newspapers before setting them aside and muttering, "The world's not a better place." He got up and stalked off to bed, and Daniel followed.

He found Jack sitting on the bed and pulling his socks off. He knelt on the floor and unfastened Jack's trousers and stroked him through his underwear, shaping his palm to the hardening curve. Jack pulled away from his touch at first. Then relented as Daniel pulled off his clothes and licked his inner thighs and behind his balls. Got him naked and hard. Stirred up his strength and control.

Daniel stayed on the floor as he stripped and reached for the nightstand and got the lube. He stroked it on himself, on Jack's dick until Jack sucked in a deep breath. Daniel lay back on the floor, legs open, feet on the bed.

"Daniel," Jack said, sinking between his thighs and touching him softly. Daniel shivered from the too-soft touch and grabbed the back of Jack's neck.

"Do it," Daniel said. Jack stared at him. Daniel tightened his hold before letting go. He pulled his legs back and rested his ankles on Jack's shoulders.

Jack started to enter him slowly, comfort and the promise kept, but Daniel bucked to take him in. Jack pushed and stilled and reached to touch Daniel's cheek. Daniel knocked his hand away. He hadn't expected to do that, but he needed this. Jack had to see that, otherwise they shared nothing.

Jack reached again, staring into Daniel's eyes, intense and unguarded. Daniel knocked his hand away. The look in Jack's eyes changed to raw. Daniel felt a surge of energy burn along his nerves that made him rock restlessly, made his dick ache. Jack grabbed his wrists and held them down and thrust. Daniel writhed and pulled his hands free, and Jack drew back. Daniel slapped him, sharp, across one cheek.

He hadn't expected to do that, either. Doubt sent a sliver of ice along the fierce burn; it melted when Jack grabbed his wrists again and banged them against the floor to hold them down. He strained against Jack's hold as Jack thrust again, harder. Another stroke back and forward, Daniel pushing up to meet it, and Daniel dragged one hand free.

He slapped Jack's cheek again, faster this time. The sound cracked through the quiet. Jack rammed into him and slapped him once, across the cheek. Not hard enough, but Daniel shivered and moaned, writhed and thrust up. Jack moved faster, panting and sweating and looking so perfectly beautiful in that moment. Hammered into him so hard Daniel was already sore, and slapped him again. So fast Daniel's cheek was numb before the stinging spread.

Daniel reached for his cock and pulled it, moaning for breath and rocking with each pounding thrust tearing into him. Jack's palm ground against his other wrist, pinning it to the floor. The next slap was sharper and glanced across Daniel's mouth, made him cut the inside of his lip on his teeth. He licked at the blood and jerked his cock. Arching as Jack pumped into him, Daniel squeezed his cock and came. Numb and stinging, with blood on his tongue. A gift, a promise kept. Jack was already pouring inside him, gasping and shuddering with the wave which bonded them together.

Jack let go and pulled out. He stretched out on his side and propped up on one elbow and rested his hand near Daniel's arm. Daniel lowered his legs and caught his breath. He flexed his hand and rotated his wrist to shake off the pins and needles. He felt giddy, jittery, euphoric. No word was precise enough for what he felt. Jack loved him.

"I..." Daniel stopped. He didn't know what to say. Words were so imprecise, so incomplete. He lifted Jack's hand and kissed the palm. Jack closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them he looked horribly vulnerable. Daniel pulled him down into his arms and held him and shared his nakedness and warmth. He stroked Jack's hair and Jack kept touching him. So gently, so controlled, his hand gliding over Daniel's wet, sweaty skin.

It was the middle of the night now, black and chilly. The chill crept in from the floor and under the bed. The floor was hard. They stood up, touching little touches, needing to be near. Broke apart when Daniel went off to the bathroom, and when he started water for a shower, Jack came in.

Daniel wrapped his arms around Jack's waist and rocked him from side to side. "There's no way both of us will fit in the tub," he said as Jack stroked both hands down his back. Touch, always touch, always needing to touch, especially now, when Daniel was naked and inviting and warm and delightful in his warmth.

Jack wanted to smile, but couldn't yet. He was both light-headed and solidly heavy. "I know."

Jack sat on the edge of the tub while Daniel showered with the glass door open and water spraying over Jack and out onto the floor. He watched Daniel wash himself and rinse the soap off, and when Daniel finished, Jack held his waist and pressed his lips then his cheek to Daniel's stomach, and Daniel stroked his hair. Dripping water.

Daniel loved him. Daniel had found a description for what Jack couldn't describe. A chaos, a ritual, a peace -- Jack had no words for it, just a description from silence, from hands, from touch. It was everything they shared, occupying the same space. Daniel loved him.

He let Daniel out of the tub and showered quickly while Daniel leaned against the glass door and watched him. Tit for tat. Now Jack smiled. Daniel smiled back, a quiet, secretive smile, and when Jack stepped out of the tub Daniel wrapped him in a towel and rubbed him semi-dry. Such cheap thrills, such small comforts and simple pleasures.

In the bedroom, Daniel sat in bed and held Jack in his arms in a wonderful solace. Jack rested against him and drifted in and out of sleep. "I think you unwound me," he said, half-awake.

\-----

Daniel couldn't relax. He longed for solitude yet prayed Jack wouldn't leave him alone. Solitude was defeat, and Daniel wasn't ready to concede yet. He had had to leave Chaka there to start a war. All his months of precise observations, and he hadn't learned very much after all. Jack hadn't said a lot since they came back, but his honest reply to General Hammond in the debriefing was enough: "I think it'll be a slaughter, sir."

The universe had its own motives. It was a wonder either of them got as far as they did, with the decks stacked against them. There would be more Chakas, more failures, more hopeless battles they had to fight anyway, because that's what their world was. Not surprising, then, that they turned to each other and sought comfort inside their fragile private shell.

Daniel was restless. He opened his journal just to set it aside again. He leafed through his book, scanned the channels on Jack's TV, cleaned his glasses and left them lying on the dining table, unpacked his overnight bag in Jack's bathroom. Love couldn't comfort him now. To use it as a refuge would be to debase it and devalue it. It was real, painfully so. Jack couldn't change the universe, any more than he could. All they could do was shelter each other in their corner of it and try not to screw things up too badly.

Jack was sitting outside with a beer. Daniel stepped onto the deck and joined him. Love couldn't comfort him, but Jack was a presence, a focus, something steady when all around was unsettling.

A dry warm wind blew past and rustled the leaves on the trees. Fast-moving clouds raced across the sky.

Daniel couldn't relax. Tension locked him. Jack watched him sit still and sip a beer and watch nothing.

"Come inside," Jack said, rising.

It was a luxury to love and be loved and know that it hurt. The closeness they had, sharing pain and fury and helplessness, was real and harsh and strong. He needed to feel the pain of Daniel's love and to feel Daniel's strength exerted. To feel Daniel unwind. He needed chaos and peace to comfort Daniel and soothe away the restless ache.

Love could be heavy and solid like a stone needing to be carried. Not a burden, but something important. Jack loved Daniel with a solidity he could not have expected to find. Yet he did -- another sign of impossible things unraveling into possibilities. Unraveling and floating away, and the stone, no matter how solid, became light as Jack carried it. He watched Daniel now, feeling both weighted and freed by how much he loved and was loved.

When Daniel came in from the arid warmth, Jack touched his cheek, held it firmly and kissed him once very softly. He felt Daniel's jaw and cheek bones beneath his fingers. Touch, always touch. Daniel tensed for a moment, and Jack drew back and pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. He came close, stared into Daniel's eyes, and unfastened Daniel's pants and slid them down. He ran his hands over Daniel's ass and pulled at his flesh and saw Daniel's pupils expand and contract.

Jack let go, raised his hand and slapped Daniel's ass once, sharp. The pulse in Daniel's neck jumped. Feverish, Jack stepped back and walked away, into the bedroom. It was disconcerting how much he desired something he hadn't known existed, and there was a thrill, not so cheap, in feeling off-balance by it. Daniel, controlled then uncontrolled, made him thirst for that thrill.

He paced as he waited, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his socks. When he straightened up, Daniel was there, naked and getting hard. He grabbed Jack's upper arm and pulled him into a brief, hard kiss. Jack bit down on Daniel's tongue. Daniel drew back, breathing hard, fingers digging in, and licked his lips. Jack pulled his arm free. Daniel slapped him once, fast but not hard enough.

The fever seeped through Jack's skin. He unbuttoned his fly and stepped free of his pants and underwear and stood in front of Daniel, naked and hard and raw and needing. Daniel grabbed both of his arms and yanked him close. Another kiss, more biting than kissing. Daniel's teeth scraped Jack's lips and drew blood. His cock, hot and solid, rubbed against Jack's.

Jack shook off Daniel's grip and pushed him away. Daniel pushed back. A brief, wonderful sensation of freefalling as Daniel's hands landed on his chest and sent him backwards and made him lose his balance. Then Daniel grabbed him again, by the wrist, and twisted his arm behind his back. Jack shuddered from the fever ache that raced through his nerves and made his dick swell. He licked at the cut on his lip. Daniel bit his shoulder, teeth sinking in.

Jack jerked his wrist free and made it to the nightstand before Daniel gripped his arm and spun him around. Jack slapped him hard, made his skin flush red. Daniel held him and kissed him and Jack tasted blood. He bit Daniel's lips, and Daniel pushed him again, hard, until he fell back across the bed. Panting, Jack lay there watching him, pulse pounding everywhere. Daniel flung the nightstand drawer open and got the lube and slicked some hurriedly on his cock and fingers. He knelt on the bed, spread his hands over Jack's thighs to move them farther apart, then shoved his fingers into Jack's ass and rubbed roughly and pumped them deep.

Jack writhed and bit his lip and reached for his dick, about to burst. Daniel wrenched his fingers free, caught Jack's hand and shoved it away. He grasped Jack's hips, pulled them up and forward and rammed his cock inside. Jack moaned as piercing solid heat ground inside him. Daniel held Jack's hips and thrust hard, fast, battering. Jack's cock ached and twitched, and he reached for it again. Daniel smacked his hand away and slapped him, harsh hot slick fingers cracking across his face while Daniel's cock banged inside him. Jack shuddered and arched and came hard. Waves of stinging flame and ice rolled through him. Daniel pumped faster, crashing against him until he was pouring, gasping, unwound and unleashed.

The waves subsided and Daniel drew back and collapsed on the bed next to him. He buried his face against Jack's neck and murmured, "Jack," into his skin. Jack stroked his hair. He couldn't say he floated, because he carried the stone, the precious stone, in all its subtle and softly brilliant blaze, and it kept him there. Daniel's heavy warm body and inviting understanding presence kept him anchored.

They lay like that in the ritual peace until it was time to move, touch and be touched, settle together and share their nakedness and warmth in soothing comfort. Jack curled around Daniel and held him and tasted the tangy saltiness of his shoulder while Daniel slept. A simple pleasure not to be taken lightly. They loved each other. It was a luxury.

\-----

The universe was against them. How could they find comfort in such a fragile shell?

Daniel sat on the hard concrete of his balcony and stared out at the grey dawn and saw in his mind thousands of dead Jaffa and Tok'ra lying in the mud of Ravanna. It had been a clean death. Clean but for the corpses with rain sweeping down over them.

Daniel had helped Sam carry Jacob. They'd been in such a hurry, he hadn't seen at first. He'd lost one contact lens and the other felt gritty in his eye. Squinting and not wanting to look at the corpses, he'd simply rushed, hurrying Sam along with Jacob between them. Then Jack had stopped. Reaching the DHD, Daniel had looked back and seen: Elliott in the mud, surrounded by Jaffa. One of them had fallen across Elliott's body.

Teal'c had carried Elliott through the gate. At the end of the gateroom ramp, when he placed Elliott on an infirmary gurney, Jack had looked at Doctor Fraiser and shook his head.

Had it not been for Elliott, none of them would have made it back. Zipacna's ground forces had numbered in the thousands. Ravanna was now a mass grave.

They hadn't known Elliott well; they hadn't had time to. Daniel folded his arms across his knees and watched the first flurries of snow drift down from the milky sky. Late season snow, weak and transient.

He didn't hear Jack come in, but he sensed Jack's presence and when he looked back, Jack was standing near the balcony door in his coat, perfectly still. Daniel looked into his eyes. A different kind of raw. It made Daniel ache. They shared everything.

Daniel rose and went inside and left the door open. He hated being cold, but sometimes the crisp air felt good. Brought him back to earth after alien climates.

Jack stood perfectly still. Daniel slid Jack's coat off his shoulders and arms and tossed it onto the chair. He untucked and unbuttoned Jack's shirt. Jack rested his hand on the back of Daniel's neck and held it firmly, and they kissed hard. Daniel bit Jack's lower lip, and Jack moved his hand to Daniel's cheek and slid his thumb under Daniel's chin and held him.

Daniel broke the kiss. Jack stared at him, eyes dark but burning. The cold air around them made Daniel feel the heat from their bodies more intensely. Jack let go of him, shrugged out of his shirt, took off his pants and shoes and socks and underwear. Daniel stripped out of his clothes and stood naked before him. The chill from outside brushed his skin like sandpaper.

Jack grabbed his arms and held him and kissed him again. His fingers dug into Daniel's flesh and his teeth cut against Daniel's lips, and Daniel felt his helplessness, piercing and jagged and heavy. Love could hurt. Like this, because the pain was unbearable and the despair endless. Daniel wrapped his arms around Jack and crushed him close. Their love could hurt, but there was something more important underneath.

Jack broke the kiss, let go, and rested his head on Daniel's shoulders. He clasped his hands around Daniel's waist. Daniel held him, and they stood for a long time in the cold air and gloomy daylight. Outside the gentle snow stopped, and the world was grey under solid clouds. Lots of planets looked like Earth, but none of them felt like this. None of them held moments like this: in familiar rooms, looking out at the same sky and the same clouds.

Jack pressed his lips to Daniel's shoulder. Daniel was warm though his skin was cool. Jack couldn't feel his pulse, but knew it anyway. They shared their breath and heartbeats and life. Such simple things.

In the debriefing Daniel had stared at the table and had been very quiet. His words had been precise and careful. Daniel was good at statements of fact. He had said, "I spoke to Baal's lotar and learned that for some human slaves, the promise of becoming a goa'uld ensures their devotion and loyalty to their masters." He had said, "After consultation with Jacob, I did not release the poison gas because the resulting power vacuum could have guaranteed Anubis an unchallenged, total consolidation of power." And he had said, "I managed to make it to an escape pod while Osiris and Lord Yu fought." What he had not said then, but said to Jack later when they were alone in Daniel's office was, "I think Sarah was there and recognized me before Yu came in and Osiris took control of her again."

And if there wasn't this closeness between them, if they didn't share everything, Jack could have said something pointlessly reassuring. Instead, all he could do was this: hold Daniel and hurt with Daniel and feel his own selfish rage. So much shit going on. It made Jack feel the fragility of their shell more acutely and yet it strengthened what they had inside. No fear, no regret, no question that the risk was worth it. Beyond the chaos, there was peace.

Jack relaxed completely in Daniel's arms, until Daniel was practically holding him up. Daniel touched his lips to Jack's neck and said, "I'm cold."

Jack ran his hands down Daniel's back and said, "Then come to bed." He could keep carrying the heavy light stone, the precious gift of it. There was no question of letting it go.

In bed, they shared their nakedness and warmth under Daniel's heavy blankets. They faced each other, and Jack touched Daniel's temple and brow and the tip of his nose and between his lips. Daniel closed his eyes and Jack touched one eyelid and the fringe of eyelashes. Daniel's eye twitched, and he opened his eyes and touched Jack's cheek. His fingertips traced Jack's cheekbone and jawline and came to rest over Jack's throat. Jack swallowed, and Daniel's fingertips moved to Jack's chest and nipples. Jack touched Daniel's lips again and followed their shape and loved that they couldn't quite stay still, not even now.

For a long time they looked and touched while the daylight brightened, receded, brightened again. Daniel curled around Jack and dozed, and Jack continued touching and stroking him and enjoying his heavy warmth. When Daniel, half-asleep, became aroused, Jack smiled softly and stroked him there. After so much, still such a gift, still such a simple pleasure. He rubbed the head of Daniel's cock and relearned each turn and curve. He stroked down the smooth swelling length and caressed Daniel's balls until they were tight in his palm. Daniel kissed his neck and rocked his hips. Jack wrapped his hand around the hard hot shaft and rubbed and tugged on it until Daniel thrust into his fist and buried his face against Jack's shoulder and came. The pure simple thrill of each wet streak of Daniel's come painting across Jack's skin and the brief deep tremors of Daniel's body pressed to his.

Still damp and coming down from the high, Daniel kissed him, slow and deep and rich. He cupped Jack's cheek and pressed their foreheads together, and Jack smoothed his hands over Daniel's back. Daniel kissed Jack's brow and nose and chin and both eyelids. He whispered Jack's name into Jack's skin: against his temple and cheek and throat and chest. Jack stretched beneath him, very warm and sinking into the delicious pool of arousal. Sharing their bodies and their love.

Daniel kissed both nipples and said Jack's name over his heart. He slid down below the blankets with his hands following Jack's body. He kissed and licked and whispered other words Jack couldn't hear and didn't need to. So gentle yet making Jack so hard, making him burn and sweat and arch his hips up from the bed because his cock was throbbing and full. Full of blood, flooding from his heart, flooding from the trails of Daniel's fingers moving over his skin.

When Daniel took him into his mouth, the wet soft heat of it closing around him and holding him and caressing him, Jack felt he might drown because he didn't feel solid anymore. Weightless and floating with his cock heavy in Daniel's mouth, pushing up and back. Only Daniel's hands on him, moving slowly and soothingly, kept him from drifting away while Daniel sucked and licked and drank him and loved him. The swirling liquid stroking pulled him under, and he filled Daniel's mouth with his come, rocking gently as the waves slid up and back.

Daniel released him slowly with caressing kisses and little careful licks and one wonderful soft bite around Jack's tip. Jack combed his fingers through Daniel's hair and rubbed the back of Daniel's neck. When Daniel slid up and covered him, Jack wrapped his arms around him and they kissed and held each other and kissed again, over and over, because there was no reason to stop.

There was no reason to stop. They made impossibilities unravel, and Jack couldn't say whether it was their love or just simply they themselves. Maybe surviving in the universe and sharing it with each other was enough to bring possibilities into being. On a small scale, it seemed that way to him. In the spaces when they were alone together, and he noticed how Daniel watched him and how everything Daniel felt was in that steady and focused and knowledgeable look. In the spaces when he had to touch Daniel, no matter how small and insignificant a touch, because he couldn't imagine not touching.

In the spaces where they needed no words, because they understood: love could hurt, and love could comfort. They shared the closeness and pain and fury and helplessness and beauty and wonder of it: the gift given and taken and returned again and again in a perfect circle. They loved each other in the ritual peace, while outside it snowed again with weak flurries falling in the greying day.

(the end)


End file.
